


Five things to teach, five things to learn

by solrosan



Series: The Daniel Green Series [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 5 Things, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Gen, Parentlock, Posting of old Fic, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 02:21:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1840774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solrosan/pseuds/solrosan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five things Sherlock taught his son, starting when Daniel was five and ending when he is sixteen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five things to teach, five things to learn

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time this was betaed by mygoldenbuttons. Originally posted in October 2011. The instructions are mostly from youtube...

* * *

**Tie shoelaces**

“Look here,” Sherlock was on his knees on the kitchen floor and tugged his five-year-old son’s shoelaces. He tilted his head and tried to find the boy’s deep blue eyes. “Daniel, look at what I’m doing.”

Daniel mimicked his head movement and smiled. 

“All right?” Sherlock smiled as well. “Are you looking? Are you watching closely?”

Daniel nodded and Sherlock placed his son’s football boot on the top of his knee for stability. Then he slowly took the (dreadful) neon yellow shoelaces and tied a knot while describing everything he did.

“You make a cross, then you go under… and then you pull. Do you want to try?”

Daniel nodded and Sherlock undid the loose knot, handing the laces to the boy. There was a disproportional amount of nervousness in his chest as the Daniel’s short fingers gripped the laces.

“Make a cross. Good.”

Daniel didn’t just cross the laces but also his arms before letting go. It was the cutest thing Sherlock had ever seen. Undoubtedly.

“Pick them up again.” Sherlock handed the laces back to Daniel. “Now take this end and pull it under, into the hole. No, here, look. Yes. Good.”

He took back the laces from Daniel – or rather, he picked them up again since Daniel once again dropped them at the word ‘good’ – and made a loop, holding it tightly to show it properly.

“See, you make a loop. A big one, all right?”

Daniel nodded.

“Good. Then you take the other lace and you make it go around the loop and into the hole created here. But you don’t pull all the way through… You see how I make a new loop here?” 

Daniel nodded again. Sherlock wasn’t convinced, but continued anyway.

“Then you just… tug it a little and there you have it.” He let go of the shoelaces and smiled at Daniel who looked amazed. “Do you want to try?”

Daniel’s answer was to undo the knot. Well, at least he knew how to do that.

“Okay. Remember what to do first?”

“Cross!” Daniel announced and did just this.

“And then?”

Daniel wrinkled his forehead in deep concentration and actually managed to tie a knot. Sherlock thought he was going to burst with pride.

“Good, and then?”

“A bow,” Daniel said, still looking focused and determined when he picked up the laces again. His short, and childishly clumsy, fingers managed a bow. That was the easy part. Sherlock held his breath.

“Around…” he instructed in a low voice. “And then in under… No, it’s all right. We try it again. Bow….”

After three failed attempts – Sherlock showed how it was done yet another time – Sherlock decided to try a different thing. He had promised himself to teach Daniel how to tie his shoes properly, not that silly bunny-ear-thing, but desperate times….

“Okay, Daniel, we’ll try a different thing, all right?” Sherlock removed Daniel’s hands from the shoelaces and met his eyes. Daniel nodded. 

“Start the same way, cross and under.” Sherlock showed again. “Then you make a loop and then you make _another_ loop, so you’ll have two loops. See, two loops.”

Sherlock wiggled the loops and Daniel seemed once again hypnotised by the magic his hands were performing with the laces. “Then you just do the same thing as before, cross… and under… and then you got a bow.”

This time he didn’t have to ask, Daniel took the laces from him and undid the knot, eager to try this simpler way to do it. Sherlock watched in silence, holding his breath, as the first attempt failed, but it was so close. So very close.

“Try it again,” he said encouragingly and Daniel did just that. Sherlock murmured the instructions under his breath without even realising it. When Daniel was successful Sherlock raised his arms in victory. “Yes!”

Daniel clapped his hands, beaming with almost as much pride as Sherlock. 

“Should we try the other one too?” Sherlock suggested and Daniel nodded happily, so Sherlock placed the other boot on his knee and handed Daniel the lances. 

This time Daniel murmured the instructions to himself and Sherlock just nodded along. It worked perfectly! Daniel clapped his hands again and Sherlock pressed a kiss on his son’s forehead.

“Good boy,” he said. “I promise I’ll tie your laces until you’re 25 as long as you do exactly like this when you’re at mum’s, all right?”

Daniel nodded. 

“Promise?”

“Pinky!” Daniel said with a big smile and wiggled his finger in Sherlock’s face. 

Sherlock hooked his own little finger in Daniel’s even smaller one. It was a ridiculous way to make a promise – he’d thought so even as he a child. Joyce had an annoying habit of filling their son’s head with social nonsense like this, but who was he to deprive Daniel of childish silliness? The least he could do was to give him proper shoes with proper laces, even if Joyce had demanded his head on a platter for the stupidity of buying football boots without Velcro to a five-year-old. 

Daniel jumped up from the chair and ran around in Sherlock’s small student flat, the studs probably ruining the floor. Sherlock smiled, he knew absolutely nothing about football, but at least he had been able to teach Daniel how to tie his shoes semi-properly.

* * *

**Use a fire extinguisher**

“Do you know how to use one of these?” Sherlock asked after Joyce had dropped Daniel off, before he’d had the time to pick out the Disney film he was going to torment Sherlock with this weekend. (Last week it had been _Aristocats_ and now Sherlock wanted to kill every stray cat he saw.)

“You press it and it shoots water on the fire?” Daniel guessed as he climbed up on a chair at the kitchen table. 

“Almost,” Sherlock said, placing the fire extinguisher on the table. “This is a dry chemical extinguisher so it doesn’t shoot water.”

“What does it shoot then?”

“Monoammonium phosphate,” Sherlock said before realising that an eight-year-old wouldn’t know what that was. Daniel nodded though, probably filing it away under ‘funny-sounding-things-dad-says’. “A white-yellowish powder.”

“Like baking powder?”

“Something like that, but baking powder often contains an alkaline, an acid salt and an-” Sherlock stopped himself at his son’s glare. 

“Sometimes it’s like you don’t speak English dad,” Daniel told him, tilting his head.

“It’s English. I promise.”

“It’s like Parseltongue, only you don’t sound like a snake.” Daniel shrugged and now it was Sherlock who didn’t understand what was said. “Why doesn’t it shoot water?”

“Because water is only useful on organic solids.”

Daniel hisses and stuck out his tongue over and over again like a snake. Sherlock laughed, he had been in the lab for too long again.

“I’m sorry, but you should learn this,” Sherlock said. “Water should only be used on wood or papers or fabric and so on.”

“Why?”

“Because if you put water on say electronics – if say the telly catches fire – you can get electrocuted.” Sherlock had the feeling that that was easier than going into what could happen if you put water on a chemical fire. This was the reason he had bought the extinguisher in the first place though. 

“Why?”

“Because…” Sherlock started, but stopped with a small pout. “I can’t explain that without sounding like a snake.”

“Why?”

Sherlock sighed mentally. A long time ago he had promised himself to always answer Daniel properly and never hide things behind dumb-down childish versions of the truth or the reality, because he couldn’t let him grow up to be as stupid as the rest of the world. Joyce worked against him all the time though, filling Daniel’s head with the most stupid things like magic and cartoons and nursery rhymes. It was very tempting from time to time to give in to it too, or fall back on ‘because I say so’. But no. He owed his son proper answers.

“ _Because_ there is no simple way to explain it,” Sherlock said and before Daniel got the chance to ask why again he continued: “But you should really know how to use this.”

“Why?”

“Remember what happened last year when dad took some work home?” Sherlock asked and gently poked the white scar on Daniel’s upper lip. “I’m going to do another project at home for a while, so you need to be able to use this. Just in case.”

“Are you going to make something explode?” Daniel’s eyes grew big with excitement and he spread his arms wide while making explosion noises.

“Hopefully not.” Sherlock smiled. “And definitely not when you’re here.”

“Why?”

“Because mum would have me lynched.” And he would probably let her if something happened to Daniel. “But come, let’s go out and I’ll show you how to use this… And then I can make a small explosion.”

Daniel grinned and ran to put his shoes on. Sherlock got a worried feeling in his gut, had he promised something stupid now? Probably. At least both of them would be able to put out a fire after this. Well, hopefully they wouldn’t need to. And hopefully Daniel wouldn’t tell Joyce about any of this.

“Don’t forget your beanie,” Sherlock told his son, waving the blue knitted cap in front of him. Daniel jumped to get it. Sherlock tousled his blond hair before it disappeared under the beanie. 

They went outside, to a backstreet behind the tenement in which Sherlock lived at the moment. Sherlock didn’t like this area but he really couldn’t do better right now. He would never dream of letting Daniel out alone in this neighbourhood, but one very big advantage was that he would be able to light a small fire in the street without anyone really caring. 

When they had gathered enough litter and random rubbish to have something to put out later Sherlock crouched down to be on the same level as Daniel.

“Do you see this?” Sherlock asked and pointed at the extinguisher’s pressure gauge. “This shows the pressure inside. You see the little needle? It should be on green. I’ll make sure that the ones I have at home are all right, but if you should ever use one somewhere else you need to check it. All right?”

“Needle on green,” Daniel repeated. “Why?”

“It won’t work if the pressure isn’t high enough,” Sherlock said. “The pressure inside is higher than the pressure outside so when you open it the contents will shoot out. It’s a bit like what happens when you shake a soda can before opening it.”

“Mum says I’m not allowed to do that.”

“No, you should not do that, it’s a waste of soda.” Sherlock smiled. “When you have checked the gauge you should make sure the tube and the hose and the seal are all intact.”

“Dad.” Daniel interrupted as if he had spotted something his father had got wrong.

“Yes?”

“If there’s a fire, isn’t that be a waste of time?” 

Sherlock smiled, that could seem like a valid point. “If it’s broken it won’t work properly and then it’s better to get out and call the fire service. Again, I’ll make sure that the ones I have always work so you don’t have to worry about that, but if there’s a lot of smoke you have to run out. Always. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Sherlock nodded and smiled to ease his own discomfort, he hated to think about Daniel in any type of dangerous situation, even if it was just hypothetical. “So if there’s a fire, and you’ve checked the extinguisher, you start with releasing the hose. Then you pull the pin that locks the handle… Here, try to press it down when the pin is in.”

He turned the extinguisher so Daniel could take the handle. The boy’s small hand tried to squeeze down the handle and when it didn’t work he tried with both. Still it didn’t work and Sherlock was pleased. Point made.

“No, no, no, don’t pull the pin yet,” Sherlock said and stopped Daniel’s hand. “We don’t have a fire to put out yet.”

That made Daniel disturbingly calm – daddy’s precious little prankster. Well, Sherlock wasn’t the one to judge really. 

“When you aim at the fire you should aim at the base, not the flames. Then you sweep.” Sherlock showed the sweeping movement with the hose and handed everything over to Daniel. “Are you ready?”

“Yes!” The boy’s voice bubbled over with excitement so Sherlock felt the need to say:

“Fires are bad.” 

Not two minutes later a small fire was burning in the street. It could have been a perfect opportunity to teach Daniel how to make a fire as well, but that really didn’t seem like something an eight-year-old needed to know. At least not one that was ping-ponged between two flats in London once a week.

“Now you can try to put it out,” Sherlock said, backing away from the fire. “Remember, pull the pin, aim for the base, squeeze the handle and sweep all over. Keep squeezing until nothing more is coming out. All right? Are you ready?”

As an answer to that, Daniel pulled the pin and pressed down the handle but the shock of the smoke that puffed out made him let go.

“That’s not what I said you should do,” Sherlock said as he swallowed a chuckle. “Do it again.”

Daniel looked very determined when he lifted the small hose again and aimed it at the fire – not the base maybe, but Sherlock let it go – and squeezed the handle. A cloud of white-yellowish smoke shot out and Daniel happily spread it everywhere. It might not have been the most efficient way to do it, but it put the fire out and at least he knew how it worked now. 

“Did you see, dad?” Daniel was two seconds away from jumping up and down, clapping his hands.

“I saw. You’re like a real fire-fighter.” Sherlock smiled and looked at the mess they had made. They should go inside before anyone saw them. “Come, let’s go and buy some gummi bears and I’ll show you how to make a little fireworks.”

He didn’t have to say that twice.

* * *

**Shave**

“This is the razor,” Sherlock said, holding up a brand new three-blade-razor. Daniel gave his dad a demeaning glare before pointing at the sink.

“This is the sink,” he said over explicitly. “This is the mirror. This is called a towel.”

“Point taken.” Sherlock handed Daniel the razor with a smirk, there was a special kind of affection that filled him every time Daniel called him on bullshit. 

“First you should wet your face with hot water,” Sherlock said, but Daniel just kept looking at him as if he was an idiot so he added: “It opens your pores.”

“Do you want me to do it now?” Daniel sounded doubtful.

“Yes.”

With a sigh, Daniel turned on the tap and splashed some water in his face – half of it seemed to miss his face and end up either on his chest or on the floor. 

“Tada!” Daniel said, water dripping from him. 

Sherlock gave him an unimpressed look. “You think that’s a good way to do it?” 

“I’m wet, aren’t I?”

Sherlock fought the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he bent over the sink and washed his own face with the hot water.

“I usually do this after I shower,” he said as he patted himself dry with a towel. “It saves time and then you really know that you have wet it properly.”

“I don’t have time to do it in the mornings.”

“You’re a reluctant little thing, aren’t you?” Sherlock said, smirking. “I know for a fact you have football practice four times a week, and since I know your mum I know you shower after each of one, so you can shave then. Or you can skip masturbating in the shower on the mornings you need to shave.”

“Dad!” Daniel looked completely tormented.

“Just be grateful you don’t have to have the ‘this is how you use a tampon’-talk with your mother.” Sherlock said matter-of-fact. 

Daniel looked horrified by the mere thought and reached for the razor to show he had surrendered to the shaving lesson.

“Put that down.” Sherlock shook his head with a smile and actually took the razor from his son. “Heard of shaving cream?” 

“Yes.” Daniel sighed. “Are you going to tell me all about the active ingredients anyway?”

“No, but only because there aren’t any since it’s not a drug or a pesticide,” Sherlock said, handing him the shaving cream. Daniel looked very surprised at the can. “What?”

“I always thought you used one of those brushes and gadgets and things.”

“Disappointed?”

“Relieved.” Daniel removed the cap. “How much?”

“Judging by your enormous amount of facial hair I would say… not that much.” Sherlock stole half of the shaving cream Daniel had put in his hand. “Then you just apply it. Circular movements. Yes, well, something like that… and don’t forget your neck.”

Daniel giggled at the sight of the two of them with shaving cream beards in the mirror. Sherlock smiled as well, but more because of the absurdity that he was teaching his son how to shave and not because it looked amusing. It felt like only yesterday he himself had learnt how to change nappies. On a whim, Sherlock took some of the shaving cream Daniel had applied too high up on his cheek bone and dotted it on his nose instead. 

“Peh!” Daniel stopped giggling and took revenge in the same manner. Sherlock smiled and didn’t bother to wipe it off. Instead he handed Daniel the razor for the second time and picked up his own.

“Ready?”

“Since, like, yesterday.”

“Don’t be cocky,” Sherlock said, placing his razor on his cheek. “Start at the top and go downwards. Never the opposite direction. Yes, like that. Don’t apply too much pressure. And then oh, well… The environmentalists – like your mum – will say that you should fill the sink with water and clean the razor, but running water works just as well. ”

Daniel smirked at the comment. Sherlock stopped his own shaving for a moment to watch Daniel’s tentative strokes – the concentration, the focus; it was endearing. 

“Then take the other side,” Sherlock said when he could tear his eyes away and actually finish his own cheeks. “Then, now… stretch the skin on your neck with your hand like this… And shave _slowly_.”

“This is a bit scary,” Daniel admitted after taking the first stroke on his neck.

Even though Sherlock knew better, he had to agree: it was a bit scary to have razorblades that close to Daniel’s carotid artery. He put that ridiculous thought out of his mind and said: “You have to be incredibly skilled to really harm yourself with a razor like this.”

“I know,” Daniel said and took another stroke. “Still…”

To the surprise of no one Sherlock finished first but soon they both just had a shaving cream moustache and goatee. It generated the same type of giggle from Daniel as the shaving cream beard had done.

“If you ever come here with a goatee I’ll disown you,” Sherlock said, dead serious. “The same goes for tattoos.”

“Can I have a piercing?”

“Depends on where you put it,” Sherlock said after a moment of thought, but added hastily: “If mum agrees.” 

“So, no.”

“Probably not, no. So the lips and chin…” Sherlock raised the razor again. “They’re the parts I think are the hardest, but you just contort your lips” – Sherlock showed by curling his lips over his teeth – “and then you just… shave. Carefully. And though there’s no excuse for nose hair, never try to get it with a razor.”

Daniel smirked. “Are you sure you and John aren’t gay for each other?” 

Sherlock nudged him gently in the shoulder, checking that the razor wasn’t anywhere near Daniel’s face. “Just shave.”

Daniel had a problem obeying because it was very hard to stretch the skin around your lips when you couldn’t stop giggling. Consequently, he managed to nick himself under his bottom lip and he cursed. 

“Language,” Sherlock said, but the very sight of blood on Daniel’s face raised his heartbeat extensively. It was ridiculous really, he had no problem with blood in general, but when it was Daniel’s blood things were just… different. Even though this was the most superficial little cut ever – not even close to when the broken Erlenmeyer had cut his upper lip open when he was seven – it was blood on Daniel and Daniel should not be bleeding.

Daniel looked a bit irresolute, which made it easier for Sherlock to be resolute. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Just finish, you have practically nothing left. Then you wash your face and we put some paper on it.”

Daniel did as he was told. Sherlock let him wash his face and then he used one of the towels Daniel had pointed out in the very beginning to pat his face dry. 

“Dad,” Daniel whined, but it mostly came out as laughter, and he tried to take the towel from him. Sherlock let him win and bent down over the sink to wash his own face.

“Last step,” Sherlock said when he also had a dry face. He took hold of Daniels hand and gave him some aftershave before taking some himself and putting it on his face.

Daniel sniffed it. “It smells like you.”

“How very peculiar,” Sherlock said, smiling. “You could get a different one if it’s too weird for you to smell like your dad, but you should really use one. You know how dry your skin tends to become, especially during the winter.”

“Gay, gay, gay, gay…” Daniel mumbled as he put on the aftershave, making a face when some of it came into the cut.

“Yes, you really shouldn’t cut yourself.” Sherlock handed him a small piece of toilet paper.

“Is this like when you told me to not fall down on turf because it would burn my knees?” Daniel asked as he applied the paper on the cut.

“Something very much like that,” Sherlock said absently as he took out his mobile. “I’m going to take a picture and send it to your mum.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes I am, be still.” Sherlock held up the phone. “Leave the paper on.”

Daniel sighed, but allowed it to happen.

“Good, one last thing,” Sherlock remembered. “No two. Two last things. Before you wash up you should make sure that you haven’t missed anything… but seeing that you have approximately five straws we skipped that today. Then finally, clean the sink.”

“It’s clean,” Daniel said after glancing down at it.

“What are you talking about?” Sherlock pointed at the splashes of shaving cream and hairs. “Mum will strangle the both of us if you get into the habit of leaving the sink like this.”

Daniel sighed and rolled his eyes, but cleaned up without another word, looking at himself in the mirror as he did so.

“Yes, yes, you look very nice.”

Daniel blushed. “I wasn’t—“

“Yes, you were.” Sherlock poked him on the shoulder. As confirmation, Daniel smiled embarrassed. “Well, all done.”

“Yeah.” Daniel gave himself a last look in the mirror and removed the paper – placing it on the newly cleaned sink. “Thanks.”

Sherlock gave him a smile in the mirror before Daniel left the bathroom. With a small sigh Sherlock then tossed the bloody little paper in the toilet. Where had the time gone?

* * *

**Pick a lock**

“Why are we doing this?” Daniel was on his knees in front of John’s door being handed a torsion wrench by his dad.

“Various reasons,” Sherlock said, dead serious. “Now take the wrench.”

Daniel took it, almost hesitantly, but looked with suspicion the lock picking set.

“Why do you even have that?”

“It’s work related,” Sherlock said, knowing perfectly well that it was just a half-truth. The older Daniel had got, the more Sherlock had found himself reluctant to stick to his ‘always tell Daniel the truth’ doctrine.

“Is it even legal?”

“Yes, as long as you don’t carry it with the intent to do burglary,” Sherlock half-muttered as he got down on his knees next to Daniel.

“What other reasons are there?” Daniel asked in slight discomfort. 

“Mostly very far-fetched ones, but intent is almost impossible to prove,” Sherlock said, smirking. He had been telling Lestrade that for years and had it been anyone but Daniel asking these questions Sherlock would most certainly been annoyed, but since it was Daniel he was actually proud of the boy’s morals. Of course, he was wildly ignoring how keen Daniel had been when he had first asked if he wanted to learn how to pick a lock.

“So what unprovable intent do we have to break into John’s room?”

“He took my skull.”

“Why?”

“I might have used one of his pillowcases for filtering bile.”

“That’s disgusting!” 

“I know,” Sherlock said, frowning. “But Molly didn’t have time to do it.”

Daniel shook his head, failing to supress a chuckle, but without another word he inserted the wrench in the lock.

“You were easily persuaded all of a sudden.” Sherlock was amused. “And apparently a bit of a natural,” he added when he saw the technique Daniel used to insert the wrench.

“Shut up,” Daniel muttered quietly, but he still smiled. “We must free Tom, otherwise you might start talking to me.”

“I’ve told you: that is not his name,” Sherlock said with annoyance, he had no idea what so ever why Daniel had decided to name the skull Tom.

“Whatever.” Daniel smirked the way he always did when he knew his dad didn’t keep up. “What do I do now?”

“Well, that depends,” Sherlock said, looking down at his lock picking set again. “Do you want to use a pick, a paperclip or a hairpin?”

“A paperclip?” Daniel smiled. “Are you for real?”

“Very much so.”

“I want the paperclip of course!”

Sherlock was slightly confused as to why Daniel thought it was obvious that he wanted the paperclip and it must have shown because Daniel giggled.

“You’re like the lovechild of Marie Curie and MacGyver, but then you grew up under a rock.”

Sherlock was almost sure that was an insult with pop cultural references, but if so, what was Marie Curie doing there? He decided to drop it and not even comment on the fact that Marie Curie had died more than 40 years before he was born. Instead he pulled out two paperclips and handed them to his son.

“Straighten both of these out,” he said. “On one of them you make a slight upward bend at the end and on the other you make a few bends along the way. Like that, that’s enough. Then you’re all set. Any last minute moral issues?” 

“No, I’m good.”

“Splendid, let’s get started.” Sherlock got off his knees and seated himself with his back against the wall instead, turning his head so he could look at what his son was about to do. “First, feel with the wrench which way the lock turns. You’ll feel which way is the right one.”

“Left.”

“Yes, all the locks in this building open counter clockwise,” Sherlock said, almost absentmindedly. “Now take the clip with bends and stick it all the way in. No, leave the wrench still inside. Stick the clip in and then you pull out swiftly while pressing it upwards and at the same time gently turning the wrench as if you were unlocking in the door.”

Daniel did as he was told but without no visible result. Sherlock would have been very surprised if there had been one.

“If you’re lucky, that might have set some of the pins,” Sherlock told him when Daniel looked at him for an explanation. “Now you take the other clip and insert it in the lock with the spike up.”

“And the wrench should still be there?”

“Yes, all the time.” Sherlock nodded. “Put some pressure on it and then try to feel the pins of the lock with the clip. There are five in this one and that’s the most common overall. Do you feel them?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“I think so too,” Sherlock said. “Start at the back, find the pin and push it up. You should feel a slight give when it’s in right position or you might actually hear it.”

Daniel was 100 % focused on what he did and his tongue was sticking out the corner of his mouth. Sherlock saw how Daniel’s eyes grew wide in surprise when the first pin went into place.

“Neat, isn’t it?” Sherlock smiled at Daniel’s excitement. “Move on to the next one and increase the pressure on the wrench with ever pin you get in place.”

It took a good ten minutes for Daniel to get all the pins and by the time he got the last one into its position the lock gave in under the pressure of the wrench and it turned. Daniel gasped with thrill. 

“Fantastic!” Sherlock said and got on his feet, taking the picking set with him. “Good work.”

“That… was bloody brilliant!” Daniel still stared at the lock and pulled out both the wrench and the paperclip.

“Language.”

“We’re breaking into John’s room and you’re care about me swearing?”

“One is a skill, the other is a bad habit,” Sherlock said. Daniel rolled his eyes and handed him the wrench. “Keep it, who knows when it can come in handy.”

Daniel shook his head, but pocketed the wrench and followed Sherlock into the room to search for the skull. Sherlock wondered if this made him a terrible father.

* * *

**Tie a bowtie**

“Dad!” 

Frustrated beyond belief, Daniel entered the sitting-room. He was dressed in black trousers and an unbuttoned dress shirt. The braces were hanging by his sides which made the trousers slide down over his hips as he walked. 

“What is this?” he demanded, waving something in front of his dad.

Sherlock gently moved Daniel’s hand away from his face. “A bowtie.”

“I know it’s a bowtie!” Daniel screamed. “Why isn’t it tied?”

“What is…?” Sherlock felt confused. “Just tie it. You know how tie a bowtie, don’t you?”

“No!” Daniel said it as if it was the most moronic thing his father had ever said.

“But you have worn dinner jackets before,” Sherlock said, still not understanding the problem. “How—”

“Mum always got me pre-tieds!”

Sherlock huffed. “That’s ridiculous. You should know how to tie a bowtie.”

“This! This is ridiculous!” Daniel said, upset, and put the bowtie in his father’s face again. “I don’t have time for this!”

“Calm down,” Sherlock said, taking the bowtie. “Go and get dressed and I’ll show you how to tie it after that.”

Daniel turned around and stomped out of the room, slamming both the door to the sitting room and the door to Sherlock’s bedroom.

“A bit nervous, is he?” John asked with an amused smile.

“Probably the understatement of the year,” Sherlock said, smiling as well. 

In two hours Daniel was supposed to be at Southbank centre where he – and the rest of his orchestra – was going to perform. Sherlock and Joyce had argued for about 15 minutes over the phone earlier this week about the logistics and if the time had come when they should stop renting and finally buy their son a dinner jacket. The result had been that Daniel should stay at Baker Street and Sherlock should rent a dinner jacket; in two years’ time it would probably be safe to buy one.

“Should we get dressed too?” John asked.

Sherlock looked at the time on his computer and got up. “Yes, he’ll probably strangle us with this tie if we’re not done in time.”

He tapped the door to his bedroom with one knuckle.

“May I come in?”

Daniel opened the door, now properly dressed – minus the bowtie and the jacket – but looking a bit flushed.

“Did I get these right?” he asked showing his cufflinks – Sherlock’s cufflinks actually. 

“Not many ways you can fail with cufflinks,” Sherlock said, handing him the bowtie. “What do you want me to wear?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you want me to wear?” Sherlock asked again. “Should I also wear a dinner jacket or is a suit better? I know John will wear his black suit and probably some hideous cartoonish tie and mum will probably wear that blue dress that shows off her breasts and the necklace ‘you’ gave her last Christmas.”

“Your black two-button, white shirt, the grey tie, grey pocket handkerchief,” Daniel told him in a very firm and determined way. Sherlock tried to not let the smile transform into a smirk as he started to unbutton the purple shirt he was wearing. 

“Lift your collar,” he told his son as he pulled the shirt out of his trousers.

“What?” 

“For the bowtie,” Sherlock said. “Lift your collar up and go in front of the mirror – you’ll need it.”

Daniel did as told and placed himself in front of the mirror. Sherlock noticed how his posture changed completely at the sight of himself in formal dress. He should really have a talk with Joyce, because the boy needed more proper clothing, not just jeans.

“Place the tie around your neck but let one end hang a little lower than the other one,” he told him while taking out the clothes he’d been ordered to wear.

“Which one?” Daniel wondered, pulling the ends back and forth. 

“Doesn’t matter, you’re going to work with the long end. I use the right side.”

“It’s that enough?” 

Sherlock looked over his shoulder and met Daniel’s eyes in the mirror before nodding, it looked fine. They had time to do this many times yet. “Button your last button before you start – yes, I know it’s uncomfortable. Then you cross the short end with the long end and pull it up under… No, not like that. Like if you’re tying a regular knot. ”

“Like this?” Daniel sounded doubtful but Sherlock nodded and left his trousers unbuttoned to put on his shirt.

“Unfortunately that’s the easy part.” Sherlock walked up to the mirror. “Make sure it’s not too tight, because you won’t be able to adjust it later.”

“What’s too tight?”

“Only you can judge that, but if you can’t breathe, then it’s too tight.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Daniel glared at him and he smirked back at him. “Now what?”

“Fold the short one over itself so it actually looks like a bow. Yes, just like that.” Sherlock kept on instructing as he closed the last button on his own shirt and stuffed it down his trousers. “Now you have to keep it there the rest of the time, so change hand so that you hold it with your left instead.”

Daniel sighed. “Couldn’t you just have taken a pre-tied?” 

“Every man should be able to tie a bowtie.”

“Says the man who still doesn’t get how England can play Scotland!” Daniel laughed, dropping his grip on the knot. “Damn it.”

“Language.”

“Sorry.”

“I’ll think about it.” Sherlock smirked and reached for his own tie. “Pull the long end behind the bow so it hangs right over the knot. Like that, yes. Now, and this is the hard part. I’ll show you, keep your hands where they are.” 

Sherlock stepped behind Daniel and placed his own hands on top of his. Then he guided Daniel’s right hand so he could feel the hole in front of the knot, created by the bow and the free end. 

“Do you feel this?” he asked. “Can you see it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then we take the very top of this end and we… pull it through.” Sherlock guided Daniel’s fingers as he gave instructions and then he let go. The bowtie looked terrible at the moment, but it held up, which was good. “Now just take the front and the back, just like that, and correct it. Straighten it out. There you go. All done.”

Sherlock smiled in the mirror, it looked quite alright. No one would be ashamed wearing that knot on stage. 

“That wasn’t that bad,” Daniel said, still adjusting the bow a little; probably just because he knew he could.

“We can pull it out and you can do it again,” Sherlock suggested as he tied his own tie, but got a dark glare through the mirror. “Don’t worry, we have time.”

Daniel ignored him – he was far too good at that these days – and put on the jacket instead. “How do I look?”

“Like a waiter at a very posh restaurant.”

“Dad.”

“I’m sorry,” Sherlock said, smiling almost ruefully. “You look _painfully_ grown up.”

Daniel’s back became a bit straighter and he looked pleased. “I’m going to see if I have everything I need.”

“Do that, and tell John to change his tie while you’re at it.”

Daniel rolled his eyes, but his smile was too wide to make it look sincere. Sherlock turned to the mirror, pretending to arrange his own tie-knot. Instead he used the mirror to discreetly watch Daniel fiddle one last time with his bowtie (and do the close to compulsory handgun thing when he pretended to be that Bond agent) before he left to make sure he knew where the violin and the music sheets were.

Sherlock shook his head, smiling even wider than Daniel had. It baffled him every second of every day that he had managed to raise such a perfect child.

**Author's Note:**

> [This is the experiment Sherlock did after showing Daniel how to use the fire extinguisher.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=txkRCIPSsjM&)


End file.
